Maybe

I once had a best friend. We don't talk anymore.

He was everything I'd ever wanted in a friend. He was fun, smart, and we clicked like no one else could. We shared things both trivial and deep and our conversations were always fun. We laughed together and we were sad together. I was there for him and he for me. We were always happy to see each other simply because we had something that extended beyond friendship. It was a pure love that allowed us to act like long lost brothers. But then something happened. I fell for him. But I got over it. We remained brothers.

But then I did something stupid-- I told him I'd had feelings for him.

He didn't take it very well. He was quite angry, and he cut off ties with me. I didn't take it very well. Actually, I was devastated. To this day I have never found another friend like him. Tonight by chance, I saw him again. I was so afraid to say hi, but eventually did. He actually acknowledged me. It was then that a huge burden on my shoulders was lightened.

I once had a best friend. We don't talk anymore. But maybe we will soon.

Brutal honesty

I am attracted to guys. I don't deny it. I see a cute guy and there are times my mind runs away with itself. I fantasize. I imagine situations with nudity and hot and heavy breathing. I want to express my love in all its forms, lust included.

But beyond all that, I am in love with someone. I feel he knows. And if he does, he shows no fear of me whatsoever. He's a close friend and I adore him. But so very often I don't want anything else, except to just hold him. To just stand behind him, put my arms around him and nuzzle the nape of his neck, and then put my chin on his shoulder and tell him how I feel inside. To go to sleep with him and spoon, simply enjoying the warmth and intimacy. To watch him sleep, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath.

And yet, I am denied that joy. Why? Because I live in a world that does not accept me. I am an outcast from the church because the majority do not understand the homosexual hatred they harbour. And I do not belong with the homosexuals because I believe what I feel deep down inside-- that homosexuality is not part of God's plan. I serve a God that I sometimes feel has not been totally clear about what it means for me to be this way or feel the way I do. A God who, for reasons and purposes known only to Him, chose to let me turn out this way.

It's all good and well to discuss the issues concerning the church and the homosexual world at large, but I have bigger, more personal questions on my mind. I am a Christian. I love Jesus. I want to serve God with everything I have. But am I to live this way forever? Am I deny myself forever? I want a family. I want kids. I want a union that will be blessed by God. I've read things that challenge the traditional beliefs of homosexuality in the Bible, things that go so far as to say that homosexuality is OK to God. I'm afraid to give so much attention to these things because I do not want to stray from the will of God. And yet I find myself asking questions, because there are times when I'm not sure as to what God says about the issue. Is He trying to tell me that I can express these feelings inside me? Or are all these accounts simply human justification for the human desires felt inside?

I am not confused. My faith is not falling apart. If anything, I'm holding on to God more and more because I know His word is truth and truth will set me free. It's a challenge to live this path He has set me on.

But in the end, the question that plagues me still is this-- Will it be that all my "normal" friends and family move on with their lives with the natural progression of things, getting married, raising families, enjoying their heterosexuality in every form and expression that is offered to them by a God that has sanctified their union, and all the while, there I am, struggling to reconcile my sexuality and my faith, trying to make sense of things, yearning for absolution and freedom from the chains of bondage that I can't clearly see or fully comprehend?

Is God unfair?

Even as I begin this post, I know that God has blessed me in so many ways, I cannot even begin to count them. But sometimes I cannot hope but feel left out. I know He is good, I know He is just, I know He is faithful... but why me?

Why did I have to be gay? I choose to be celibate. At least, I choose to try to be. But I've often felt that there has to be an easier way. A more fair way.

I don't advocate gay marriage or a homosexual lifestyle, because I do feel that homosexuality is a choice (which I mentioned a few posts ago) that goes against what God wants. So the alternative is celibacy.

I read a post by JJ, in which she talks about celibacy and the problem with it as a choice--

So, there you have it. My answer to the question that I’ve been asked more than a few times (and always, incidentally, by married people), “What’s wrong with the celibacy option?”

The answer? A lot. A hell of a lot. Beyond the obvious, being celibate, or even just single in this world (not just in the West, by the way, every where you go in the world, being in a couple is the norm for adults) puts you outside. Unless you are in a convent or a monastery (or some other variation of a celibate community), you’re going to feel it, feel your otherness, feel your outside status… maybe not every day, but you feel it a lot. And I know that the solution is apparently to rely on the ‘compassion’ of the church, those people who will take us single people in, but… well, how is someone’s pity supposed to help with making me feel more valued? Pity does not equal intimacy, it is not a replacement for the relationships that most people have at some point in their lives. And it is a lie to say that it is enough.

I know the response to that, by the way. Christ is enough. I know that. I just don’t know that having merely ‘enough’ to get by is what my life is supposed to be. Other people get Christ and the joys (and responsibilities) that come with marriage. It doesn’t mean their faith or relationship with Him is any less significant.

I know that this is a juvenile thing to say, but it really just isn’t fair.

And I can't help but feel the same way.